The Phoenix Trick
by Aerle
Summary: After having run away from his grandfather, the duke of Foosha, former heir Ace finds himself in the land of Alabasta. There, he sees a show of a travelling performer, whose greatest trick allows him to be reborn in fire. Tired of being alone and out of money, Ace decides that he wants to team up with this stranger. MarcoAce week day 1 (Fire). Fantasy AU. Illustration by Kyyhkynen


This is my contrubution to day 1 of the MarcoAce week, organised on Tumblr. The theme of the day is Fire.

Thanks Myladyday and Mai Kusakabe for the support (and by that I mean kicking my ass XD), I couldn't have done it without you.

Beta'ed at the speed of light by Myladyday

* * *

Yawning, Ace stretched himself and sleepily searched for whatever it was that woke him up. Close by the alley he had been sleeping in, loud applause and cheering sounded. Noiseless, the freckled man sat up and peeked around the corner – not that anyone would look up from some guy coming out of an alley, but Ace could never be certain he wouldn't be recognised. After all, he was still the grandson of the duke of Foosha and Garp's heir. Not that he expected someone to recognise some heir of a duke from a far away country here in Alabasta, but there were a lot of travellers in Alubarna, so he didn't want to take any chances.

Running away had been his best decision ever, though. He had never wanted to become a duke and marrying duchess Nami – which had pretty much been arranged since their birth, so neither had had a saying in it – had hardly seemed appealing to him. Always being locked away in a stuffy castle scared the hell out of him. Garp knew that, but nevertheless forced him to learn how to rule and other boring stuff. Even eating was boring as a duke and if there was one thing Ace loved, it was eating. That much he had discovered after he had sneaked out of the castle one night with nothing more than a small amount of money and the clothes on his back. Living outside was great. He could sleep under the stars and meet the most interesting people. He ate dinner where he wanted and could stuff his face all he liked, an opportunity he gladly took advantage off.

It was a lonely life he led, travelling from city to city, and sleeping under the stars wasn't always so appealing, especially when it rained. Still, he wouldn't exchange the freedom he had for any amount of money. But having a friend or travelling companion would have been nice…

Shaking off these thoughts, he snuck out of the alley and walked over to where the noise came from. He didn't have to look hard, he had hardly left the alley before he bumped into someone, who was part of a large crowd. The man turned around annoyed and Ace quickly apologised, bowing, before he hid his face. If something would give him away, it would be those stupid freckles.

Suddenly, the crowd started to cheer again and Ace noticed a large blue flame rising up from the middle off the mass of people. Standing on his toes – he was glad he was tall – he peered into the crowd, wanting to know what excited the people so much at this time of night. Unfortunately, he couldn't see much, aside from a man in the middle, wearing a turban on his head. He was clothed in a white shirt with wide sleeves and a light blue sleeveless jacket over it, along with wide falling pants. Apparently, he had been giving a show, as the people surrounding him threw coins on the small amount of space around him. Unfortunately for Ace, the show seemed to be over.

Slowly, the crowd slunk off and soon it was only the former heir and the artist on the town's square. The man was busy packing his props into a suitcase. Ace saw a large cloth, rings and some things he couldn't identify. The stranger obviously made his money by showing off his talents. That was a great idea. The freckled man was running out of coins fast. But what could he do to make money?

While he was thinking about that, the artist suddenly seemed to notice his presence and jerked his head up. Ace wanted to apologise for staring, when those blue eyes seemed to pierce through his soul. He couldn't speak, taking a step back on instinct, and kept staring at the stranger with his mouth half open, like a fish out of the water.

The other man straightened and slowly, almost cautiously, took a few steps closer. "May I help you?"

For some reason, hearing his voice surprised the duke's grandson and he snapped out of it, shaking his head to clear it. "I, er… I seem to have missed your show. Will you be giving it again?"

The man looked at him, his piercing blue eyes taking him in from head to toe and making him feel uncomfortable. He was beginning to wonder if the stranger had heard him, when that voice spoke again: "Tomorrow evening at sunset."

With that, he turned around, his wide fitting clothes almost twirling around him, and he disappeared into an alley.

Ace stared after him, his heart beating fast and he had no idea why. One thing he knew for sure: he would watch the show the next day.

* * *

The next morning, he was woken by a sharp object jabbing his side. Opening his eyes, he was met by the sight of some annoyed looking soldiers. "It is not allowed to sleep in the street," one said with a gruff voice. "Now get the hell out of here before we arrest you."

They didn't need to tell him twice. The last thing he wanted was to get into trouble with the authorities. Jumping up and apologising politely out of force of habit – one of the maidservants in the castle, Makino, had taught him that – he ran off.

He barely had enough money to buy a proper breakfast as the city was expensive, so he had to make do with some fruit and a piece of old bread. He had planned to continue his journey today, but he really wanted to see the show tonight.

When the sun was beginning to set, he all but ran towards the square the stranger had been at the previous night. There were people present, but they didn't seem to be waiting for the show, rather making their way home or finding the nearest tavern. Ace took a seat on the edge of the large fountain that was in the middle of the square and scanned the crowd for a glimpse of the strange performer.

He was almost done eating his feeble dinner when he finally recognised the turban. It was common here to wear one in Alabasta, even though people in the city seemed to wear them less. Well, more than where Ace came from, the duchy of Foosha was hardly to be called exotic. Because of that, it had taken him a while to get used to Alabasta, as he himself had to dress differently for the heat as well.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he looked up again, only to have lost sight of the performer. Cursing softly, he scanned the square again. He almost fell backwards into the fountain when he suddenly saw the stranger sitting next to him on the edge of the fountain. The man smirked at him, having grabbed his hand when Ace heeled backwards.

"Careful now," he said, the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.

"Y-you were just over there!" The freckled man pointed to a spot in front of him.

"I decided I wanted to have a chat with my biggest fan."

"I didn't even see you do anything yet," Ace protested.

Smirking even wider, the man revealed pearly white teeth. "You'll love it."

Sitting this close together, the duke's heir had the opportunity to study the stranger's face better. He was tanned, like most people here, with droopy eyelids like he hadn't slept well and stubble on his chin. And of course there were his eyes that seemed to be able to see everything, read every thought he had. Despite knowing that was nonsense, he averted his gaze. He didn't need some stranger to know who he was. "Don't you have a show to do?"

The man next to him studied him for a moment, making him feel even more uncomfortable, before he rose. "Alright. Prepare to be amazed."

"You're rather confident," Ace called after the man.

He turned around and smirked. "It's not my first time." Then, in a loud voice, he started to call people to his show, luring them with promises of amazement. He stayed close to the fountain though, so that the raven haired man was sitting in the first row.

Ace studied his movements closely. If he wanted to make money like that, he had to learn a skill. Maybe this man was willing to teach him? Then they could team up! It would be nice, he would have a way to make money and have a travelling companion, maybe even a friend. The stranger seemed to like him.

People started to gather around the performer, chattering and mumbling to each other, wondering what was going to happen. The man in the middle got some things out of his suitcase. The first thing he got were ordinary juggling balls. He was very skilled, but soon people started to call for something else. Throwing the balls up with one hand, he bent down again, getting out a sword this time. Ace watched with open mouth how the artist just kept juggling, now including the sharp weapon. There were cheers and applause and some money was thrown in the circle. Some more swords were added – how many had he with him, anyway? – and every one of them was caught effortlessly.

It was becoming darker and the entertainer put down the balls and swords, only to replace them with burning torches. Almost hypnotised, Ace stared at the ring of fire the man created and it took him a while to notice that the stranger was looking at him, a smirk on his face. If only out of principle, he turned up his nose.

The stranger continued his performance, handing all but one of his torches to someone in the audience. Then , he grabbed a bottle and took a swig from it. Holding the remaining torch close to his face, he suddenly breathed fire.

Ace had to admit in the privacy of his mind, the show was awesome. The man did all kinds of things with fire that had been explicitly forbidden to the freckled heir. The performer danced with a burning ribbon, breathed and ate fire, and balanced a torch on his nose. He hadn't even gotten round to the thing with the blue fire, of which Ace had caught a glimpse the previous night. That was to what the freckled man looked forward the most.

Finally, the entertainer announced it was time for the grand finale. Ace sat up straight and watched as the man took a blanket.

"I need a volunteer." The eyes of the performer scanned the crowd until they rested on Ace and the stranger smirked. "How about you?"

Hesitantly, Ace rose and strode to the middle of the circle, trying to hide his face. It was dark now, so he doubted anyone would recognise his face in the light of the fire and the moon. When he was standing near the performer, he was handed a burning torch.

"When I give the signal, please light this blanket," the artist explained.

Ace nodded. That seemed simple enough. Until he realised that the performer threw the blanket over himself. The freckled man's eyes widened. He was supposed to set the man on fire?!

"If you please," it sounded from under the thick cloth.

"Are you crazy?!" Ace exclaimed, louder than he intended.

The turbaned head peeked out under the blanket and smirked at him. "Like I said, it's not my first time. Now, please light it and step back." And he disappeared again.

Swallowing, Ace held the burning end of the torch against the cloth, which immediately caught fire. He jumped back as flames started to consume the fabric and an agonising scream sounded. Dropping the torch on the stone ground, Ace watched in horror how the burning figure let itself drop, before flames obscured his view.

The audience had become very quiet, as everyone stared at the place where the performer was being consumed by the fire. Finally, someone moved, grabbing a bucket from somewhere and filling it in the fountain, before throwing it over the blanket. With a sizzling sound, some of the flames were extinguished. The man repeated his action a few times, aided by some of the other bystanders, until the fire was completely put out.

Ace stared to where the blanket was lying on the floor. The fabric seemed untouched by the flames, but the weirdest part was, that there was nothing underneath it. The performer had not burned to crisp. He had disappeared.

The bystanders started to talk to each other, just as confused as Ace felt. Where had he gone? He hadn't taken any of the money. So this couldn't be it, right?

Suddenly, a cry sounded, like a large bird calling. Looking around to the source of the sound, the freckled man saw a figure surrounded in what looked like blue flames approaching from the roof of a nearby house, like it was flying. The shape landed in the middle of the crowd. It used its wing-like arms to cover itself, before it bowed down. Straightening again, he threw his arms open, killing the blue flames. The man, because that much became obvious, was wearing a beak shaped mask. Pulling it off, he revealed himself to be the performer.

For a moment it was silent enough on the square to hear a pin drop. But then, a thunderous applause arose. The artist bowed a few times more, before he started to collect the money that was tossed in his direction. Every now and then he stopped to have a conversation with someone.

Ace could only stare. He was sure he had never seen anything as amazing as this performance in his life, or would ever see, for that matter. When the stranger reached him, he swallowed hard and managed to bring out: "That was amazing."

The man smirked at him. "That is why they call me the Phoenix."

The heir nodded, until he realised what the artist was waiting for. He fished the last copper coin out of his pocket. "Here. It's all I have, but it was worth it."

The performer took it from his hand and made a slight curtsey. "Thank you."

He was about to move on when Ace stopped him. "You think you could teach me? I want to become a performer like you and I don't think I'll ever meet someone more talented than you."

The stranger looked around, giving him a suspicious look. Then he said curtly: "I work alone. Try it somewhere else, kid."

Ace knew he should be offended by the kid remark, but he was too busy to try and hide his disappointment to care about it.

* * *

He ended up sleeping in a dark alley again, this time hidden from prying eyes. He had left the square right after the performer had turned him down and crawled up in a corner. He was still alone and had no money. He didn't regret giving his last coin to the artist, though. The man had deserved it. And he really shouldn't have expected that the man would just accept him as his apprentice. The freckled man was probably too old to be that, anyway, and for all the stranger knew, he could just be after the money. No, he was going to have to come up with a new plan to make cash.

Rather stiff, he straightened and stretched himself. His first concern now was to find some food. After that, he would travel on to the next town. He had stayed long enough in Alubarna and the chances of being recognised here increased at this point.

Leaving the alley, he found himself at a market. Around him, merchants exclaimed loudly and praised their wares. The most amazing smells hit his nostrils and his stomach growled. He needed food and fast. He really didn't have the energy to work for it. And how easy would it be just to stretch out his hand and take something. Just walking away with it. Would they notice?

Ace stopped in his tracks. Was he seriously considering this? He, the grandson of the duke of Foosha, was considering to steal? On the other hand, he doubted a little that his grandfather, or another forefather, had obtained the land through honest measures. Would it really matter that much? Would the merchant even notice something missing? It wasn't like he wanted to steal money of something valuable. Just some bread.

Licking his lips and swallowing hard, he inconspicuously walked closer to the stands. At the third one he passed by, he finally had collected enough courage and grabbed a loaf of bread that was lying on the edge of the stand. He hid the food in his wide sleeve and walked on as if nothing had happened, until he hear yelling behind him. "That guy stole a bread!"

With wide eyes, Ace looked back. Some guards noticed him and came running towards him. The freckled man turned around and hastily made his way through the crowd.

"You there! Stop right now!"

Elbowing his way through the mass, Ace cast a brief look over his shoulder. Two guards were getting awfully close. Cursing under his breath, he made it out of the crowd and started running. The guards yelled something, probably to each other or to someone in the way.

Ace turned a corner, much to his shock finding out it was a dead end. Panicking, he looked around, looking for a way out and considering trying to climb a wall. It was a long shot and most likely impossible, but what was his alternative.

His hands clawed at the smooth wall, looking for any kind of hold, but before he could find any gap or protuberance, one of the guards grabbed him by his collar. "There you are, thief!"

"It was only a bread," the freckled man protested and kicked the guard in his side. The man momentarily lost his grip and let go of Ace. Panicking, the young man looked around for a way out.

Suddenly, a small thing the size of a pebble was dropped in front of his feet and as soon as it hit the ground, a cloud of smoke arose. Confused, Ace looked around when the smoke penetrated his nose and eyes and he started to cough, just as the guards did. Hands suddenly sneaked under his armpits and with an unmanly shriek he was lifted up until he landed on top of the roof.

As soon as he felt solid ground underneath his feet, Ace whipped around to face his rescuer. He was met by the most brilliant blue eyes.

His mouth fell open. "What… Why…?"

"Not here." The performer grabbed his hand and before the freckled man could protest, he was pulled along. Together, they ran over the roofs until the artist deemed they had lost the guards. Apparently, he knew the city quite well, because without hesitation he led Ace to a place where they could lower themselves from the roofs and to a dilapidated abandoned house.

The past few minutes had gone by so fast and now Ace found himself sitting on the cool floor next to the performer he had tried to team up with. Said man moved around, getting a fire started and placing a pot over it. Ace took the time to look around the house. They were in the outskirts of town, in a house that most likely had not been inhabited for a long time. The artist seemed to make it his temporary home though. In the corner the suitcase with his props was standing, along with a blanket and some pots and pans.

"Do you live here?" the freckled man dared to ask.

The artist looked up from his pot, in which he let some leaves fall. Soon, it was starting to smell nice, like tea, in the house. "Only when I'm in Alunbarna."

Silence fell once again and Ace rocked nervously back and forth. "Thank you for saving me," he muttered. "But why did you anyway?"

"Stealing is a serious offence here. It would be a waste if you lost your hand," the man said absentmindedly.

"Why do you care?"

The performer looked up, surprised, like he didn't expect that question. "Why… Some tricks are hard to do with only one hand," he eventually said.

Ace's face brightened. "Does that mean you'll teach me?" When the entertainer nodded curtly, the freckled man narrowed his eyes. "Why change your mind? You seemed pretty clear last night."

"I may have jumped to conclusions as to why you wanted to join me," the man with the turban said. "Though, of course I can never be sure you won't run off as soon as I teach you everything I know…"

"I won't leave you!" Ace hastened himself to say. "Really! I'm looking for companionship as much as I want to learn how to perform. And that phoenix-trick, that's your thing, I don't need to learn that. Just the juggling and breathing fire and stuff… I could be your assistant!"

"First answer me this, why do you want to become a performer?" Those piercing blue eyes were aimed at him, trying to read his mind, no doubt – and perhaps succeeding.

"I love to travel," he answered with a shrug. "And a performer is always on the road, right? Besides, performers are very well loved."

The performer rose and stared musing out of one of the broken windows. "If that's what you want, you shouldn't become a performing artist.

"Why?"

"Sure, people love us while we doing our show, but don't try to stick around after. People distrust performers, like we are all thieves. After the show you should leave as soon as you can. We're outcasts. Loved ones, but outcasts nonetheless."

Ace rose and grinned. "Well, that's okay. I'm an outcast, anyway." He thought about his position as heir to a duke. "Besides, that must mean it's a lonely business as well. So you probably could use company." He cocked his head a little and looked at the other expectantly.

"It does get lonely on the road," the performer mused, turning around. "Alright, you got a deal. As long as you promise not to steal my tricks. And remember, you'll be my assistant. In exchange for me teaching you, you'll have to do chores."

The freckled man grinned from ear to ear. "Deal. I'm Ace, by the way."

The performer studied his face for a moment, before he extended his hand. "Marco."

Ace beamed at him as he shook his hand and suddenly he remembered the bread in his sleeve and the fact he was hungry. "Do you want some?"

"That's okay."

The freckled man shrugged and stuffed his mouth full. The bread wasn't even fresh. Did he really risk his hand for this? He was hungry, though, so he didn't really care either way. While he was eating, the performer – Marco – offered him a cup of tea, which he accepted gratefully.

* * *

They ended up spending the day at Marco's 'house' where the performer taught Ace the basics of juggling. He sucked at it though, causing the other man to laugh when he dropped the balls on his own head or launched them in the tea. Marco was a good teacher and very patient, which Ace very much needed, because after the umpteenth time of dropping the balls, he was ready to throw them out of the window.

"Don't watch them, you'll be too late," Marco advised him. "Just sense where they are. They'll fall, you don't have to do anything for that." He demonstrated effortless.

Ace sighed and tried again. He succeeded in juggling with two balls, but three proved to be a challenge. When it started to get dark, the performer decided it was enough. "We'll eat and then go to bed. I want to leave at dawn tomorrow. As first job as my assistant, you can make dinner."

"Uhm, sure." He thought for a moment. He had never cooked in his life, living off bread and pre-roasted meat he bought at the market since he ran away from home. It was more expansive and also the reason his money was gone so soon, but what choice did he have? Life without meat was unthinkable.

Still, Marco had told him to make dinner, but he needed food for that, right? The bread he had… borrowed that morning, was long gone. The performer was staring at him, the longer he was standing and looking around. Finally, Ace scratched the back of his head and dared to ask: "Do you have food?"

The performer raised an eyebrow. "In that bag over there. I didn't count on having to feed two people, though."

Ace knelt down and retrieved some food from it. There was dried meat, some bread and vegetables. Not much to cook, fortunately. He divided between them. He took a considerable portion for himself and started to wolf it down. It took him a moment to realise that Marco was staring at him, an eyebrow raised.

"What are you doing?"

He swallowed. "Eating?"

"Perhaps I should have asked how big your appetite was before agreeing to take you on," the other snorted. "Once we're on the road you'll have to hunt some animals."

Ace nodded. Hunting was something he could do, as it was considered an appropriate way to pass time as a duke.

Marco finished his food and rose. "You'll have to go to the market before we leave in the morning. Since you ate a portion of our rations."

"Didn't you say we're leaving at dawn?" Ace asked with wide eyes. He wasn't used to getting up early, so he hadn't been happy with dawn, but earlier than that?

"I did." The man retrieved some of his things before he strolled towards the door. "Don't disappoint me."

"Where are you going?" Ace asked a little concerned.

"I like my privacy. Good night."

"Night." Confused, the freckled man stayed behind, while he heard another door in the house close. He wondered why the performer insisted on sleeping alone in a room. They had spend the day in the living room, which was large enough for two people to sleep without even being near each other. Maybe he didn't like to change in public.

Shrugging it off, he took off his robe – which he bought after he had arrived in Alabasta, as it was traditional clothing and it was very convenient. It was too bad he was out of money, because these were starting to get dirty. He got a blanket from Marco's stuff he had left behind and curled up naked under it.

* * *

A sharp pain in his side woke him up the next morning. Sleepily, he opened his eyes and rubbing the sore spot, he looked up. Next to him was Marco standing, tapping his foot impatiently. "Why the hell are you still sleeping? I told you to go to the market to buy food!"

Ace yawned. "I guess I overslept. Why the rush anyway?" He pushed the blanket off him and crawled towards his clothes.

"What the hell are you doing sleeping naked? Underneath _my_ blanket?" the performer asked sharply.

"I couldn't sleep in my clothes, those are the only ones I've got. Calm down, I'll buy a new blanket," the freckled man said soothingly.

"Buy?"

The man sounded so surprised that Ace turned around. Had he said something weird? That's what you did when you had worn your clothes for a few days or they had gotten dirty, right? Throw them out? Or rather, had your servants do it, but Ace understood not everyone had servants. But still.

Marco was still looking at him weirdly, so he asked: "What?"

"I'm not happy that your junk touched it, but throwing it away seems a bit redundant when it's still good."

"Then what do I do with it?" the freckled man whined.

"Wash it!"

"How do I do that?"

Marco stared at him for a while, but eventually sighed. "You know what? Just keep it. You'll need one on the road. Now, go to the market and but us some food to last us a few days. But no meat, we can catch that ourselves."

Ace did as he was told after he had put on his clothes. Despite the early hour, it was already busy on the market. The freckled man kept his head low, in case the guards from the previous day were still lurking around. He counted the money Marco had given him. No meat, the performer had said, but why did it have to smell so good? He couldn't resist buying some dried meat. That shouldn't go bad on the road, right?

When he returned, the performer had packed his things and seemed ready to go. Proudly, Ace showed him what he had bought – aside from some dried meat that had vanished somehow along the road. Marco seemed only mildly pleased, saying that Ace could have gotten more with the money he had given him.

"The lady said it was exactly what I had," the freckled man protested.

"Did you even try to haggle?"

When Ace looked at him with an uncomprehending look on his face, he sighed. "It seems like I have to teach you more than just juggling. Where the hell did you grow up that you don't know the basic things to survive?"

The black haired man looked away, his bottom lip sticking out slightly.

Marco sighed again. "Alright, stop pouting. You don't have to tell me. I didn't tell you anything about myself either. But if you want to stay my assistant, you have to become more useful. Now, carry my things. I'm sure you can handle that."

Happily, Ace picked up the stuff. It was heavy – the man carried several swords, after all – but he was happy to be of use. Apparently, he had not given Marco much of a reason to let him stay, aside from keeping him company.

By the time Marco allowed them to take a lunch break, the freckled man dropped the bags panting, only to be reprimanded that he should be more careful. Ace scowled at the other man. "I'm not a pack mule, you know."

The other looked at him coldly. "You'll have to prove to me you're worth investing in. Up till now, I haven't see much potential, either as my assistant and as a performer. You should be happy I've given you the chance."

"I'm honoured to be allowed to walk near you," Ace sneered sarcastically, although he had actually heard people say that to his grandfather.

"If you're not happy here, you can just go. I managed perfectly fine without you," Marco snorted.

"Fine!" Roughly, Ace threw off the last bag. He looked at the performer one more time, who had his arms crossed before his chest and looked at him daringly, before he stormed off in a random direction. Who did that guy think he was? He better be royalty or something, to dare to talk to him like that. To use him like that! He could manage fine on his own. Who needed to perform in order to earn money? He would find another way.

It would help if his stomach would stop rumbling, though. He should have picked a fight _after_ they had lunch.

With a protesting stomach, he reached a small village Marco had deemed too insignificant to perform in. There was hardly more than a well and a few houses, but at least he could quench his thirst, since he had left the water sacks with the performer as well.

After he had drunk, he sat with his back against the well, wondering what to do. He was hungry and had no money. And of course he knew stealing was bad. Besides, in a small village like this he would most certainly get caught. He yawned. Maybe after a little nap he would know what to do. Closing his eyes, he drifted off.

* * *

This time he awoke from someone poking him with something that felt like a rod. Opening his eyes, he looked in the face of a small girl, who was indeed carrying a stick. Seeing he was awake, she moved back, holding the stick up as a weapon. When she realised he wasn't going to attack, she carefully asked: "Are you okay, mister?"

"I'm okay." When he moved to scratch his head, she shrieked and threw her stick at him. It landed more than a foot away from him. Raising his eyebrows, he picked up the rod and looked at it. The girl watched carefully, ready to run off any moment.

Ace tapped the stick gently against his head in thought, before he had an idea. Placing the stick on his nose, he let it balance there. The girl watched in awe. When he took it off again, she applauded and he bowed.

"Are you a performer, mister?"

He grinned broadly. "I am. But I'm a bit hungry. You wouldn't have any food on you, would you?"

The girl looked at his for a moment, before skittering off. Ace looked after her and sighed. It had been too good to be true anyway. Damn those kids and their concentration problems!

Much to his surprise, the girl came back, carrying a piece of bread, and she was followed by several other children. All of them carried food in their hands. One by one they handed it to Ace and he could eat to his heart's content. After he was done, the children were still standing around him, looking expectantly. "What?" he asked.

"Rika said you were a performer!" a boy said. "Can you do a trick?"

Understanding they wouldn't leave him until he had satisfied their curiosity, he tried balancing the stick on his nose again, receiving an applause. He bowed, taking two balls the children were carrying and started juggling them. Fortunately, they were of an age that they were easily impressed and again he got an ovation. Trying some more tricks with the stick and balls, he entertained the children for a while, before their parents called them in for dinner. Calling "Bye, mister!", they ran off.

Sighing with a grin on his face, Ace sat back on his place against the well. He had enjoyed himself while giving the small performance. If he stayed here tonight, he could do the same tomorrow and earn some more food. Though, he would have to think of some more tricks. There was only so much you could do with two balls and a stick.

"It seems like I was wrong."

Ace looked up when he heard the familiar voice. A few yards away from him, Marco was leaning against the wall of a house, a smile on his face.

The freckled man looked confused. Why was he here? "Wrong about what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Maybe you are a performer. The way you entertained those children was great, especially with so few props. You're like a rough diamond, someone has to polish you."

Ace felt his cheeks heating up and he looked away. "Why are you here?" he muttered.

Marco sighed and sat down next to him. "I realised I've been too hard on you. You're probably not used to doing chores, so I should have been a little more patient. So the spot for assistant is still open, if you're interested."

The freckled man studied the other's face, not sure what to think of the sudden change of heart. What did he mean by "not used to doing chores"? Did he know? But why would he want a duke's heir to be his assistant, anyway? Besides, Ace really wanted to learn how to perform. "Sure."

Marco smiled at him. "Great. Come on then, we can still make some progress before sundown."

"Actually," Ace hesitated for a moment, "do you think we can stay a little longer? Those kids have deserved a real show, don't you think?"

* * *

They left the village the next morning, having received many gifts and food packages. The children had loved Marco's show, as did the adults in the village. Ace handed Marco the props he needed – of course, he wasn't good enough to do an actual performance, but by popular demand, he filled in when Marco took a break. A nice old woman had insisted they stayed at her place for the night and the next morning they had gotten an extended breakfast. Almost the whole village had come out to wave them goodbye when they continued their journey.

Ace carried most bags, but this time Marco held a few as well when they left the village. Ace was grinning broadly at having made so much friends in such a short time. He never had actual friends. The performer looked at him, a smile on his face. "You're good with people. That can come in handy."

"You're not good with people?"

Marco thought for a moment. "I don't like people."

The freckled man stopped in his tracks. "Wait, then why did you let me come along?"

"Honestly? To be my pack mule." Seeing Ace's unamused face, he hastily continued: "But of course you're my assistant and apprentice."

"Not your friend?"

Marco looked at him surprised. "You want to be my friend?"

Ace shrugged. "I suppose it would be convenient, since we travel together. What do you say?" Grinning broadly, he held out his hand.

Marco looked at it like he was handing him a dead fish and then turned around. "I think it's too soon to call each other more than 'acquaintance'. Come on now, we might reach the next village by nightfall."

Disappointed, the freckled man followed him. Becoming his assistant had been step one, but becoming friends with the stoic performer would prove to be a challenge.

* * *

Unfortunately, they did not reach the next village by sundown, so they decided to set up camp. Marco set up the tent, while Ace placed the bags he had been carrying on the ground and started to make a fire. They ate in relative silence, like they had been all day. Marco, at least. Ace had tried to start a conversation several times, but the other man only answered his questions curtly and personal ones not at all.

The freckled man didn't push, after all, he very much liked to keep his past a secret as well. If the performer knew who he really was, he might not want to travel with him again or worse, would hand him over to his grandfather in hope of a reward.

After they had eaten, Marco made him practice juggling again, but three balls still proved to be too difficult. Giving up for the night, Ace yawned. "Okay, I'm beat. Let's call it a night."

"That sounds sensible." Marco rose and made his way to the tent. "Good night."

"Wait a minute, you don't mean for me to sleep outside, do you?" Ace asked a little indignant when Marco was about to pull the canvas close.

The performer raised his eyebrow. "I told you. I like my privacy. When you have earned money, buy your own tent. For now, you have your blanket. Good night." With that, he disappeared into the tent.

Ace snorted incensed. The man was actually going to make him sleep outside? What was his deal, anyway? Well, he supposed yawning, it was a nice night, a little cold, but that never bothered him much.

* * *

The sound of something falling roused him the next morning, to find that Marco was taking down the tent. "Morning," the performer said when he saw that Ace was awake. "Did you sleep well?"

"Do you actually care or are you just polite?" the freckled man grouched. After all, if he was worried about his night's rest, he would have let him sleep in the tent.

"Just being polite. Get started on breakfast, yes?"

Grumbling, the freckled man did as he was told. Again, they didn't talk much during breakfast, but when they were done eating, Marco said: "We'll leave after lunch. That will give us enough time to reach the next village and prepare for the show. Then you can use the morning to practice your juggling."

He finally managed to juggle three balls once when it was time to leave. In the village, Ace roused the inhabitants to come watch the show as Marco prepared his props. The show was huge success, earning them much money, enough to stay at an inn and eat plentiful. Ace ordered beer after beer, but noticed that Marco left it at two. Contently, he rubbed his stomach when he was full and they headed for bed. Falling on the lower one in the bunk bed, Ace was immediately fast asleep, before the performer had been able to climb in his.

* * *

They continued their journey the next day, after having replenished their stocks. The week after continued the same way, either setting up camp outside a village or city, or sleeping at an inn – which Ace preferred as Marco still made him sleep outside. Marco was sparse with their money though and they almost never stayed at a place they had to pay for. Fortunately for the duke's heir, in the smaller villages there was usually someone who opened their home to them.

On their free time, the performer told the freckled man to practice his juggling. Ace was starting to grow bored by the practice, but it did pay off, because he actually was able to hold three balls in the air. When he had that under control, Marco added another one. That was much easier to learn and soon he was practicing with five. The performer let him fill the breaks in his show with his newly acquired skill.

Their relationship hadn't changed much. Ace was still trying to get on Marco's good side and actually have the man admit they were friends, but every time he though the performer opened up to him more, Marco seemed to realise the same and immediately shut him out again. They didn't fight anymore, like on the first day, but their relationship was a stiff and polite one. Ace hated that. It was like he was at the castle of his grandfather again, where all the servants treated him like that – only Marco made him do the chores instead of doing them for him. When he had asked the performer to let him come with him, he had hoped they would be more than master and apprentice. But that was the only relationship Marco seemed to be interested in.

They were reaching the border of Alabasta and Ace was considering asking Marco to give Foosha a wide berth, but he didn't feel like explaining why. He would just have to hope that the performer wouldn't bother going there, after all, the world was big enough not to have to call in at one small dukedom.

It was just when they had crossed the border of Alabasta one night, that it started to rain. Marco was already safely in his tent, but drops on his forehead woke Ace and he cursed loudly. Using his blanket as a cover, he knocked on the canvas of the tent.

He heard some shifting inside when a sleepy voice sounded: "What?"

"It's raining, let me in."

It stayed quiet for a moment. "A little rain won't kill you," Marco answered eventually.

"Are you kidding me? Come on, don't be a dick and let me in! I'll catch pneumonia!"

It stayed quiet and Ace was considering to tear open the canvas – as it was locked with several hooks from the inside – when the canvas parted. Ace pulled off his robe he tended to wear at night and dove into the tent.

Inside, Marco was lying on a mattress, a blanket covering him. "Close the door," he said curtly, turning his back to Ace.

Curious, the freckled man looked at the performer. It was the first time he saw the man without a shirt on and the turban on his head. What surprised him the most, however, was the colour of the man's hair. He had expected it to be dark, like most inhabitants of Alabasta, but instead he was blond. And with an odd haircut as well. It was almost star shaped.

"Stop staring at me," Marco's muffled voice sounded.

"I'm sorry, I just thought your hair would be black or something," Ace said with a shrug. "Like most people in Alabasta."

It stayed silent for a moment. Then Marco said softly: "I never said I was from Alabasta."

That stunned the freckled man a little. "No, but your clothes…"

Marco sat up brusquely. "Shut up and go to sleep or get out!" His angry facial expression suddenly changed and he looked the duke's heir up and down. "Why are you naked? _Again_?"

"My robe got wet and I didn't think you would appreciate your tent getting damp," Ace said. "What's the big deal? You know what it all looks like."

Marco stayed silent with a weird expression on his face, which the freckled man couldn't place. Finally, the man muttered: "Just go to sleep." He laid back down, his back turned to his assistant.

Ace raised his eyebrows, confused, but then shrugged it off and lied down. "Night, Marco." He didn't get a response.

* * *

_His body felt hot, but not by the temperature of his surroundings. His skin was dying to be touched and tingled when its wish was fulfilled. Skilled fingers, which weren't his own, dragged down his chest and stomach, but stopping right before they touched the hairy trail that started at his navel. He groaned and arched his back, trying to get the touch back when it left his skin. He was hard, he knew that without looking. Why? Why did he feel the need to be touched by someone else? No one had touched him like that, ever. He had considered trying to seduce a servant at times, but none of them he found that appealing. Girls from Foosha were all so dull…_

_A hand palmed his crotch and he let out a loud moan. _

Waking up with a gasp, Ace shot up, almost hitting his head against the canvas he wasn't used to being there. What kind of dream had that been? He couldn't remember having erotic dreams before, especially not this vivid ones. If he didn't know any better, he would think someone actually touched him.

Dread came over him when he realised he might have been touching himself. At the same time he was also hit by the realisation that he may have moaned out loud and that he wasn't alone in the tent. Looking over to the other occupant, he sighed in relief when he saw that Marco still seemed to be asleep, his back turned towards him.

That only left him with one problem, one that wouldn't let itself be ignored. Outside, it was still raining, as the soft tapping sound on the canvas proved. He decided to take care of his 'problem', either by standing in the cold rain or relieving himself – at a reasonable distance from the tent, of course.

Without making any noise, Ace slipped out of the tent. He was still naked, which was convenient, but he was glad they were camping in the middle of nowhere. After all, not everyone had to see his erection, especially since the sun was starting to rise.

He had thought of taking a bar of soap from the tent, so he could use the time he was standing in the rain to wash himself. The water and cold actually did the trick for his arousal, but it still made him wonder. Not about the fact that he woke up with a boner, that happened more often, but the dream alluded him. Especially as it felt like someone had been touching him. In his dream, this person didn't have a face, but their touch alone had sent shivers up his spine.

Feeling clean enough, he returned back to the tent, drying off in the opening. Slowly, Marco turned around when the light entered into the tent and blinked. When he saw Ace sitting, he immediately turned back. "Would you cover yourself up, please?!"

"Sorry." The freckled man grinned. He probably shouldn't enjoy making the other feel uncomfortable, but honestly, he didn't see the big deal of seeing another man naked. They had the same parts, after all, he reasoned. "I just took a shower."

"It's still raining, eh?" Marco moved towards the opening, keeping the blanket around his waist, which indicated he was naked as well. He pushed Ace aside and looked outside. "Doesn't look like we can travelling on soon."

"What about 'a little rain doesn't kill you'?" Ace teased as he lay back down on the place he had slept in.

Marco scowled at him. "I said it won't kill _you_. My props can't get wet. Fire and water don't go well together, you know. If this keeps up, we can forget about putting up a show, anyway."

Ace yawned and stretched himself. When the blanket, which covered him from the waist down, slid up, Marco gave him that weird look again. Suddenly, the man moved with the speed of light and reaching in his bag, threw a pair of pants at his assistant. "Put that on!"

Snickering, the freckled man did as he was told. Marco turned his back to him while he was struggling to hoist the pants up in the small space of the tent. The blond put on pants as well, but he remained under his blanket until he succeeded.

Now that light came into the tent – as Marco had left the entrance open a little – Ace had the opportunity to study the performer closer. Despite the dark from last night, he had managed to make out that Marco was blond. It looked good on him, better than dark hair would have. What he hadn't noticed last night, was the fact that across Marco's muscular chest – very muscular indeed, the freckled man hadn't expected that underneath the wide shirts he wore – was a tattoo, consisting of a cross and a crescent shaped figure. Despite its simplicity, it was quite beautiful and the dark blue ink contrasted with the tanned skin.

He must have been staring too intensely, because suddenly, Marco pulled a shirt over his head, covering up the muscles and the tattoo.

"What does it mean?" Ace dared to ask. "Your tattoo. I've never seen anything like it."

The blond's hand hovered over the place where the depiction was on his chest. His eyes, usually bored, were now sad. "It's… It was my family crest."

He didn't seem to want to talk about it, so the freckled man quickly changed the subject. "So, it seems we're going to be stuck here. What do you want to do?" He looked outside, but it didn't seem like the rain was going to stop any time soon.

Behind him, he heard Marco rummage about. "You want to play cards?" the blond asked. When Ace turned around, he saw the man holding a pack. Smirking, he shrugged and sat on his improvised bed.

They played several games, having first breakfast and then lunch. However, by the time they ate the latter, Ace still hadn't won any of the games, no matter which game they played.

"You know, I'm starting to think you're either really good at every card game, or you're cheating," the freckled man said pouting.

Marco gave him his usual bored look. "Why would I cheat?"

"That's what I like to know. But those wide sleeves of yours are very convenient hiding places…" Before the blond could react, Ace moved towards him and shook at his sleeve. Several kings and aces fell out.

"I knew it!" the heir exclaimed. Laughing, he dove on top of the other man, pinning him down against the thin mattress. Marco was chuckling too as they wrestled, but suddenly his cheerful face disappeared.

"Ace, get off me!"

He didn't sound angry, rather like he was panicking.

Frowning, Ace moved off the other man. He finally had gotten him to open up a little, but the blond had realised that as well. "You really don't like people touching you, hm?" he said.

The performer looked away and stayed silent. There was a tension in the air now that hadn't been there before as Ace lay down on his blanket on the other side of the tent. Neither of them spoke, until Marco suddenly moved towards his bag and said: "I need a drink." From the bag, he retrieved a bottle of what looked like wine and took a long draught. After a moment of hesitation, he handed it to Ace, who followed his example.

After a few more sips, Marco started to talk. "It's been a long time since I had company," he said thoughtful. "Even though I attract many people to my show, hardly anyone stays after to talk. Only maybe a few questions about my tricks. People don't usually want to be my friend, you know? Why would they? I'm just a stranger, who'll leave again. So I'm always alone." His eyes looked sad.

Ace popped himself up on his elbows. "You're not alone anymore."

But Marco shook his head. "If you only knew… If you knew me, really knew me, knew what I had done, you would leave me too." He took another draught.

Ace placed his hand on the blond's arm. The man flinched a little, but let him anyway. "Just talk to me," the freckled man pleaded. "I'm not going anywhere. Even if I wanted to, I have nowhere to go. Please, I just want to get to know you better."

Marco stared at the hand on his arm for a while. He took it in his own, staring at it for a while, before placing it in Ace's lap like it wasn't attached to said man's body. He shook his head. "I'm a horrible person. I am, don't try to tell me otherwise," he added when the freckled heir opened his mouth. "Once, a long time ago, I wasn't alone. I had a family. I loved them so much, I still do." He swallowed before reaching for the bottle again. After some encouraging sips, he continued: "We're not related by blood. We're all adopted by the same man, who we call Pops. He was a rich man, but also a good man. We had it good. All fifteen of us. We were a big family, I had thirteen brothers and a sister. Before Pops, none of us had anything. I'm the eldest, the one with the most responsibilities… And I failed them, Ace. I failed them all! One day, soldiers came for him, for Pops. They took him away. Said he'd betrayed his country or some shit…"

Ace listened with bated breath. In the time they spend together, Marco had never talked this much at once. Hell, the freckled man doubted that everything the man had said altogether was as much as he talked now.

The blond emptied the bottle in one last drink and lay back on his bed. "They beheaded him. I couldn't believe it when I heard and I was there." His eyes were glazed over, by alcohol and emotion. "At the execution. I was the eldest of the kids. I should have taken responsibility for them. But instead, I started to drink." He looked at the empty bottle in his hand and threw it away, burying his face in his pillow. "I was drunk every night," he whispered. "I neglected them… They had no use for me. One day I realised that. They didn't need me. I was good for nothing. So I left… I left them to fend for themselves…"

Silently, Ace moved over to him and gently started to caress his back. The blond didn't even flinch this time, he was either too distracted by his sadness or too drunk.

"I promised myself I would never be happy again," Marco continued in a soft voice. "Never again… At first I was a beggar, but that made me even more useless than I already was. So I learned I could earn money by doing tricks. I send them the money I earn, my family. That's all I can do. I'm so useless…"

"Marco…"

"You should stop being so nice to me. I'm just whining," the drunken man said. "And I can't become attached to you."

"Why not?" Ace asked carefully.

Marco just shook his head.

"C'mere."

Surprised, the blond looked up, a questioning look on his face. Ace hoisted him in a sitting position, before wrapping his arms around the other, pulling him close. For a moment, the performer sat frozen, but then he buried his face in the crook of the freckled man's neck. His shoulders shook as he started sobbing. Gently, Ace rocked them back and forth, realising that the only reason the blond had told him anything and now broke down was because of the alcohol. He would be sure not to bring it up again, but he was kind of happy the man finally opened up and that he was able to comfort him. After a while, Marco's body stopped to shake and his breath became even. Carefully, Ace placed the sleeping man on the bed and retrieved a book from one of the bags.

* * *

The next morning, the rain had stopped and the sun shone brightly. Ace was busy placing his clothes outside, still wearing Marco's pants, to let them dry, along with his blanket, when he heard moving about in the tent. A blond head peeked outside.

The freckled man turned to his new friend – because, dammit, they were now, there was no way Marco could deny that anymore – and smiled. "Good morning. I made coffee." He pointed to the small fire above which a small kettle was hanging.

The blond grouched something, before crawling out of the tent. He sipped from his coffee in silence when Ace joined him. Marco was quiet, even for him, so the freckled man tried to start a conversation. "How are you feeling?"

The performer looked at him and then sighed. "Never let me drink again."

Ace couldn't help but snicker, but shut up when Marco shot him a deadly look. They enjoyed their coffee in silence and the freckled man proudly showed the blond the hare he had caught this morning for them to eat. The performer merely hummed, but did sound somewhat pleased. Finally, he said: "I haven't scared you off last night, have I?"

"Of course not." Ace placed a hand on his shoulder, but was disappointed to see that the flinch was back. "We all make mistakes. But don't you want to go back? To your family?"

Marco snorted. "It's been two years. They don't want me back."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't pretend like you know them!" the blond snapped.

The freckled man remained silent and stared at the floor. "You're right," he said softly. "It's none of my business. I'm sorry."

Marco sighed. "No, I am. It's just… a sensitive subject, I guess."

Ace nodded and let it rest. He was a little surprised that Marco didn't ask about his family or past, since the blond had shared so much, but shrugged it off. He probably didn't want to pry or was too caught up in his own situation. And besides, as long as the man didn't ask, Ace didn't have to come up with an excuse or lie.

They took down the tent and without further conversation, they started their journey of the day. Despite the silence though, Ace felt like they were closer. The silence didn't make him feel uncomfortable like it had a couple of days ago.

* * *

In the days that passed, Marco relaxed more around the freckled man, probably because he realised that despite knowing, Ace wasn't going anywhere, nor did he thought of the blond differently. They slept at an inn after giving their show, but moved on soon. Marco was never really clear on where they were going next, seemingly just wanting to travel from town to town.

They were now a few days on the road without passing a village or city and according to Marco, that would continue for another two days. They had long since left Alabasta behind, but still the blond didn't seem inclined to change his Alabastian outfit. He had told Ace he could keep the pants he had borrowed, or shorts, actually, and the freckled man contently wore them without feeling the need to put on a shirt. Now that he didn't have to worry about his skin burning in the hot sun of Alabasta, he noticed how freeing it felt not to have to wear a shirt. His grandfather would have a heart attack if he saw him like that, but Ace liked it. When he started doing it, or rather, when he didn't put a shirt on despite Marco offering him one, the blond had shot him a few of those weird looks again, but didn't press the matter.

The sun started to set and in the last light they put op the tent. Marco still didn't seem keen to share his shelter, but allowed Ace inside on cold nights or when it rained. When it was nice out Ace didn't feel the need to sleep inside anyway, but some nights they talked for a long time through the canvas.

Putting up the tent tonight, however, the freckled man discovered a slight tear in the material. Marco asked him to get needle and thread, which the blond kept in the shoulder bag he always carried himself. Looking through the things in there, Ace's eye fell on a piece of paper with a picture on it. Turning it over, his eyes went wide. He was looking at a picture taken at his grandfather's sixtieth birthday, the day before Ace decided to run off. He was in the picture too, next to the duke of Foosha and looking rather bored. His face was encircled with a pen. "What the hell is this?" he asked, forcing his rage down.

Marco looked up from the making of a fire. His usually droopy eyes widened when he saw what Ace was holding, but he didn't answer the question.

"How the hell did you get this?" Ace asked again, his voice breaking in anger.

The blond rose and made an attempt to take the photo from him, but the freckled man held it out of his reach. "Tell me!" he yelled.

The performer swallowed. "After… After we had that fight when you had just joined me, I went to a bar, where someone had left an old newspaper from Foosha. I saw the photo from the duke's birthday and recognised you in the background."

"Is that why you came back for me?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Marco shrugged. "It seemed like an easy way to make money. You would come with me voluntarily and I would lead you into a trap. I thought they would pay for the duke's heir. And the money… I could send it to my family. "

All Ace could do was stare at his supposed friend, who had just admitted he was planning on betraying him.

"But after that rainy day… I wasn't going to go through with it anymore!" Marco hastened himself to say. "I'd come to like you and… I won't betray a friend."

"Why should I believe you?" the freckled man spat. "You didn't seem to have trouble betraying your family, so why wouldn't you stab be in the back?" He knew it was a cheap shot and way below the belt, but he was so angry right now. Marco had knew who he was all along! So he pretended he didn't saw the hurt look on the performer's face.

"Ace, I'm sorry! I know it was a lousy thing to do, but I…" He shook his head. "I don't have an excuse. But look at this!" He started to fold out a map.

The freckled man was still angry, but curiosity took over and he leaned over to look at the map.

"We started here." Marco pointed at Alunbarna and started to drag his finger over the chart in the direction of the dukedom of Foosha. "We went this way and on that rainy day we camped here." He tapped on a place between two villages halfway to Foosha. "After that day, we went in this direction." His finger dragged southwards, away from Ace's home. "And now we're here." The digit stopped.

Reluctantly, Ace had to agree that it indeed seemed that Marco had abandoned the plan to hand him over to his grandfather. "Is that why you kept me at a distance?" he asked.

"Partly, yes," the blond admitted as he folded the map. "Are you mad?"

"Of course I'm mad," the freckled man snapped. "You wanted to hand me over to the man I ran away from. For a reason."

"What reason?" Marco inquired.

The raven head was a little taken aback by the question. "Why? Because I don't want to become a duke, of course! You see me rule a dukedom? I wanted to be free and to see the world." He sighed.

"You still want that?"

The freckled man looked up, a little surprised. "Of course. Why?"

Marco grabbed his hands. "Then stay with me! I know I screwed up, but I can show you the world. Please." He looked at the younger man earnestly.

Ace sighed and looked away. "Fine. It's not like I have somewhere else to go, anyway. But wait," he said as suddenly a thought struck him, "is that why you only taught me how to juggle? Because you knew that I wouldn't have use for other skills anyway?"

The guilty look on Marco's face told him everything he needed to know.

"But I'll make it up to you," the blond hastened himself to say. From the suitcase of props, he retrieved a torch and lit it to the fire he just made. "I'll teach you how to breath fire."

* * *

Breathing fire came way easier for him than the juggling had and within a few days Marco deemed him ready to co-host the performance in the next city they came through. Ace was excited, since the only things he had done before were passing the props to the blond and juggling a bit.

The show was a huge success and Ace only burned his clothes a little. To celebrate, Marco used their earnings to buy wine. Lots of wine, in fact, and it didn't take that long for Ace to start feeling tipsy.

"You did well today," Marco complimented him, causing the freckled man to all but giggle.

"I know, right? Fire is awesome. You should have more tricks with fire. Fire is awesome," he stated, drinking another glass.

"You just said that." Still, the blond smiled. "Take it easy on the booze."

Ace made a sound that sounded like "psh" and took another swig. "'m Not gonna get drunk. You know how many banquets I had to attend? And I can tell you, those are _boring_. So, I had to drink. Oh!"

Marco looked up from his own glass at the dark haired man's exclamation. "What is it?"

"I haven't thought about that… She has to attend those banquets too… She must be so bored with me gone," Ace muttered, without taking notice of Marco's words.

The blond almost choked on his wine. "S-she? Who?"

Finally, the heir looked up, a goofy smile on his face. "My fiancée, of course."

"You're engaged?"

"Of course." Ace looked at him like he was stupid. "That's kind of our thing, you know. For dukes and royalty. Marry off your children go get land and breed more beautiful children." He giggled again. "I was lucky though. Nami's great. I mean, I'm not in love with her or anything, but it's better to marry a friend than someone you can't stand, right?"

"Is she a duchess as well?"

"Close. Her sister is the duchess of Cocoyashi, so she's royal enough." Ace took another draught of wine. "I hope she will be married off to someone nice. Not that she can't handle herself, she beat me up time and time again. She seems to think I'm an idiot."

"That you are. But a cute one." When the dark haired man looked at him offended, Marco chuckled. "Come on, with the freckles and the flushed cheeks?"

"'m Not cute!" Ace huffed. "And if you think otherwise, 'm gonna beat you up."

"You want to try that when you can't even stand up straight?"

"I'll tell you what's straight… My brother!"

Marco looked at him confused. "Your brother… is straight?"

Ace stared at him for a second, but then made a dismissive gesture. "No! Well, yes of course. But maybe Nami can marry him. They get along very well. He's an idiot too." He grinned broadly.

Marco looked at him with a warm, but nostalgic glance. "I didn't know you had a brother."

Ace smiled. "I do! His name is Luffy. He was the only one that knew I was running away and supported me. I miss him." Sighing, Ace placed his head against the blond's shoulder.

After a moment of hesitation, the performer started caressing his hair. "I know how you feel," he said, his voice sounding hoarse.

The freckled man looked up. "That's right. So we both have no one." A smile appeared on his face. "Then it's a good thing we found each other."

"That it is." Marco's fingers brushed against his jaw when he touched him hesitantly. Ace sighed and leaned against his hand. Their eyes never looked away and once again, the raven head realised what a beautiful blue colour Marco's were. There was a weird tension his drunken brain didn't understand, but neither did he felt the urge to pull away. It was nice. Marco felt warm, safe. So it was only nice that the blond decided to come closer, right?

The last thing Ace remembered was how warm the blond's breath felt against his lips.

* * *

Waking up with a pounding headache was never one of his favourite things to do and today was no exception. Groaning, he sat up on the bed he didn't remember lying down in. Apparently, Marco had deemed it best for them to stay at an inn and with Ace being drunk and falling asleep, that seemed like a wise decision.

The freckled man rose and went down to the bar, where he found Marco eating breakfast. "Morning, he said a little shy.

The blond looked up from his food and nodded to acknowledge his presence, before sliding a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice over to the younger man.

Gratefully, he took a long draught. A maid came to take his order for breakfast and after she had left, Ace turned to Marco. "Sorry about getting drunk last night."

"It's okay." Without looking up, he continued eating.

Ace tried to make eye contact, but failed. Sighing, he gave up. "I guess that makes us even, right? Drinking wise."

"Sure." The blond rose. "Eat your breakfast quickly, I want to leave as soon as possible." With that, he walked away.

Frowning, the freckled man stared after him. Really, what was his problem? Ace had apologised. He didn't remember much from last night. Had he said something to offend him? He couldn't for the life of him think of anything, but decided to bring it up once they were on the road. Content with his resolve, he dug into his breakfast.

Marco was waiting outside after he was done, still avoiding eye contact. Without saying a word, he lifted up the bags and started walking. Ace followed in silence, waiting until they had left the city before bringing up what he wanted to ask.

When they had left the crowded streets and were on a road to the next village, Ace increased his pace to walk next to his friend. Marco still seemed to ignore him, even after he had called his name a few time. Deciding on another approach, the freckled man stopped walking altogether and asked: "Are you mad at me?"

That worked. The blond abruptly came to a halt and looked over his shoulder to Ace. When the raven head continued to look at him questioningly, he sighed. "No. I'm not."

"Are you sure? You keep ignoring me. Did I say something to offend you? If I did, I'm sorry and I didn't mean it–"

A finger on his lips effectively stopped him from talking. Confused, he looked at his friend. Now that he paid attention, he saw how worn down Marco looked, like he hadn't slept all night.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm sorry I made you worry."

Ace nodded, his face pulled in a worried frown. "Marco, are you okay? You look tired."

"I'm fine." When the freckled man didn't buy that, he ruffled the black strands. "Really. Just a little tired."

The heir let the subject rest, but didn't stop worrying. He needed to make Marco relax. The man obviously didn't want to talk about what was bothering him, but making him relax should at least help him sleep.

After dinner, Marco immediately retired to his tent, but Ace, sleeping outside since it didn't rain, heard him leaving the shelter in the middle of the night. He considered letting the blond know he was awake, but he was really tired and perhaps the man only had to pee. That he woke up again when the sun had barely risen and saw Marco sneaking back into the tent, however, didn't sit well with him.

At breakfast, the freckled man noticed his friend looked even more tired than the day before – he didn't expect anything else after he hadn't slept all night again. Still, Ace hadn't a clue how to help his friend. He tried to make him talk about it, only to be assured that the blond was fine.

An idea came to mind when they reached the next village. As they looked for a place to perform, the passed a large bathhouse. That ought to get the blond to relax.

"Marco?"

The performer sighed and stopped. As he turned to the freckled man, he put some bags on the ground and rubbed his neck. "What is it?" He sounded so tired.

"How about we don't do a performance tonight?"

The blond man looked at him confused. "Why not?"

"'Cause, you're in no shape to do it and you make mistakes when you're tired. I don't want you to get burned or anything. So, how about we go to the bathhouse instead?"

"Why? It's expensive and if we don't do a show–"

This time, Ace interrupted him by placing a finger on his lips. "Marco, I'm worried about you. You need to relax. Besides, we're starting to stink anyway."

The blond still seemed to hesitate, but didn't have the energy to stop him when the freckled man started to drag him towards the bathhouse.

Inside, they were greeted by a friendly woman, who pointed them to the baths. The bathhouse also had an inn, so after a little pushing from Ace, they also got rooms and brought their stuff there, before hitting the baths.

Marco had already left for the baths and was sitting in a warm spring outside when Ace joined him. The freckled man discarded his towel and jumped into the water. He walked over to the blond and attempted to sit next to him on the stone bench underwater, when the man suddenly moved over. Frowning, Ace looked at him. "You don't want to sit next to me?"

"Well, I just thought that since we have this bath to ourselves, we should take advantage of the space," Marco said, without making eye contact.

Ace pouted a little. "Don't be silly." Stubbornly, he moved over as well, so that he was sitting next to his friend. The blond stayed put, but looked away anyway.

The freckled man moved a little closer, their thighs touching. "Come on, this is nice, right? Warm water, peaceful environment… You can relax here, right?"

Marco sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "It's not that simple…"

"Sure it is!"Ace moved, so he was sitting transverse on the bench and pulled Marco towards him. "Come on, I'll give you a back massage and you feel better in no time!"

"Ace, don't…" His objections faded into a moan as Ace's fingers hit a particular tight knot in his shoulder blades.

The freckled man smiled as his friend leaned into his touch. He could feel the man relax beneath his hands. "See?" he grinned. "You can relax."

Marco merely nodded, moaning softly as he rubbed his face again. Ace felt him loosen up, when the man suddenly turned around. Before the freckled man knew what was going on, he was pinned against the edge of the basin, and hungry lips were pressed against his own. Marco pushed his legs apart. Ace could feel something brush against his thigh.

He had no idea how to react. Marco was kissing him. Marco, his best friend was kissing him. Why? What was going on?

Before his confused brain could come up with an answer, the blond let go off him, a look of horror written all over his face. "I-I'm so sorry," he stammered. He didn't give Ace any chance to respond as he climbed out of the bath and ran towards the bathhouse.

Ace sat frozen in the water. His fingers subconsciously touched his lips, which had been covered with Marco's not even a minute ago. What the hell had just happened? Marco was his friend. Friends didn't kiss, right? The only person he had kissed before was Nami and he had been betrothed to her. Did that mean that Marco liked him as more than a friend? Was he the reason the blond had been so tense lately?

There were too many questions and no answers. All he knew was that he had to talk to Marco. Whatever was going on, he didn't want to lose his friend.

Hoisting himself out of the bath, he dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist, as he had left his clothes in the room they rented. Arriving there, he found the door locked. He knocked carefully. "Marco? Are you there?"

No response came, but Ace knew the performer had to be there, as he had left the door unlocked when he went to the spring. Sighing, he let himself slide down the wall. "Marco, I'm, not mad. Or disgusted. I don't hate you. I just want to know what's going on. Please, let me in."

It stayed silent again, but just as Ace was about to start talking again, he heard the lock open. Standing up and opening the door carefully, he found Marco lying on his bed, his back turned to the freckled man. Gently, the raven head made his towards him and sat down on the mattress. The blond didn't respond. "Marco," the heir said softly.

The blond sighed and sat up, looking at his friend. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"So, it meant nothing?" the freckled man asked a little surprised.

Marco sighed again and looked away, his eyes sad. "I wish I could say that. I don't know why… Maybe because I've been alone so long or because you're nice to me, or just that you're ridiculously hot…"

Ace couldn't help but chuckle at the last statement.

The blond wiped a hand over his face. "I'm sorry I lost control. I don't want to lose you or ruin our friendship. Can we just forget about it?"

The freckled man smiled. "Sure. Though," he added a little worriedly, "wouldn't it be better if I left–"

"No!" Marco grabbed his arm. "Please, don't leave me." He buried his face in Ace's lap.

Gently, the freckled man caressed his hair. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Slowly, the blond's body seemed to relax and his breath became even. The raven head smiled. Finally, he was asleep.

* * *

Despite their resolve to stay together and forget about the whole thing, there was a weird tension between them as they travelled further. They had stayed one more day in the village with the bathhouse, so Marco could sleep in and Ace could enjoy the baths and the next night they gave a performance. Their teamwork wasn't as flawless as usual and Marco's performance was a bit stiff. They pretended like nothing was off, though, and Ace just hoped the weirdness between them would disappear soon.

The kiss did make him think. He had never thought about being attracted to men before. He hadn't been attracted to that many women either, not even Nami. Of course, he knew she was beautiful, but he also knew Marco was handsome, so that was no help. He couldn't really decide if he had enjoyed the kiss, though. It had happened so fast and he hadn't had any time to respond. Part of him wanted to try it again, but he also didn't want to give the blond false hope in case he didn't like it after all. So, he decided to let it rest and just focus on their performances.

Everything went fine, although their teamwork remained a little stiff, until Marco was talking to some woman after one of their shows. Ace was cleaning up their stuff and it annoyed him that the blond didn't help him. Really, what was so interesting about that woman? Glaring holes in the other man's back, however, didn't seem to help.

Finally, Marco turned around, but his remark did not please the freckled man. "Could you pack up the things, please? I promised to give a…" he glanced at the woman, who giggled, "…private show."

"Won't you need props then?" the raven head asked confused, before his meaning dawned upon him. He just stared at the retreating form of his friend, who had his arm wrapped around this strange woman. The sword he was about to pack slipped from his fingers. What was happening? Marco had been acting distant all week, true, but Ace just figured he needed a little time to get over the freckled man. And now he suddenly walked off with some woman? Leaving it to Ace to pack everything up? Like hell! The freckled man stopped being just an apprentice a long time ago and was now on equal level as Marco. So like hell he was going to let himself be bossed around by the man!

Dumping the last things into the suitcase – because he didn't want to leave the things unattended after all – he ran in the direction he had seen Marco disappear in. He asked a random passer-by for the closest inn or hotel and was pointed to one, yelling a quick thanks before spurting by. At the desk in the inn he asked panting: "Did a man and a woman just check in? The guy is pretty tall, turban, Alabastian clothes… The woman…" He stopped, realising he hadn't paid any attention to what she looked like.

The inn owner seemed to be a bit reluctant to share any information, but as usual – as he learned from Marco – a few coins loosened the tongue and he was pointed to the room. Angrily, he placed the suitcase against the wall, before kicking the door open.

He was met by a very angry man, who had been asleep and he realised that in his anger, he had opened the wrong door. Quickly, he apologised by bowing and closed the door again. Double checking if he now had the right one, he kicked the next one open.

There, on a bed, Marco was lying on top of the woman, already half naked. When the door was kicked in, he turned around confused to the furious Ace. "What? I told you to clean up. Go get a different room, I'm busy," he all but snapped.

"Yes and I _heard_ you, but I'm not your fucking maid!"

"You're my assistant!"

"Not anymore! Why the hell are you treating me like this over some woman?! You want me to go after all? Because you got it, mister!"

Throwing the suitcase at him, Ace stormed out. That damn bastard! What the hell was he thinking? He was treating him worse than he did in the beginning. The raven head had had it. Marco had begged him to stay and that was the only reason he did. He didn't need this shit. He could perform on his own, thank you very much. He didn't need Marco or his stupid props.

After running wildly around town for a while, he had finally cooled off. And, he realised, he _did_ need Marco. He didn't want to be alone and he especially didn't want to lose his best friend.

It had long ago become dark as they did the show at night time because of the fire. He didn't know the way and perhaps he could find an inn, but he didn't feel like that for some reason. The image of Marco on top of that woman was stuck in his head. Why a woman? Didn't Marco like _him_? And he was a guy, the blond knew that too. And even if she had been a man, Marco still liked _him_. He had said so himself, he had even _kissed_ Ace.

The raven head crawled into an alley and slid down against the wall. He felt something wet on his cheeks and surprised he looked up, but the sky was clear. He wiped his face and looked at his hand. It wasn't just water. But why? Why was he crying? Maybe Marco liked that woman now, big deal. Or he didn't like her and just wanted to have sex with her. But did that mean he didn't like Ace anymore? And why did it feel like that thought crushed his soul?

* * *

He hadn't realised he had fallen asleep until someone gently shook his shoulder. Groaning softly, because he felt like shit, Ace opened his eyes. When he recognised Marco's face, he tensed and slid away from him. "What do you want?" he snapped, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to cover up the fact that they were red and puffy.

"I came to apologise."

That was about the last thing he expected to hear from the blond's mouth. A demand for the money he had still in his pocket would have made more sense. "Wha– Why?" he stammered.

Marco sighed and sat down next to Ace against the wall. "I don't know what I was thinking last night. I just… Even though I never expected you to return my feelings, it hurt and I was tired of feeling like that, for longing for something I could never have. So when she offered, I decided to take the opportunity. I shouldn't have treated you like crap, though."

"Damn right you shouldn't have," Ace snapped.

"I know. I'm sorry." They fell silent for a moment before Marco asked: "Ace?"

He hummed as an indication he was listening, having let his head fall against the wall and his eyes closed.

"Why did you follow me?"

His eyes snapped open. "Because you were an ass, obviously!" Suddenly, he felt very uncomfortable.

"Really? Then was it really necessary to interrupt? Or throw a suitcase at my head?" Marco turned. "Or to cry?"

The freckled man tried to look away, but deft fingers turned his chin towards the performer. He carefully looked up and his eyes locked with the beautiful blue ones. "You were really an ass," he whispered.

"Is that the only reason?" Marco's face moved closer. "Are you sure you weren't jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous? You can do any girl you want, I don't care."

"Really? Then stop me…" The last words were almost breathed and before Ace knew it, the blond pressed his lips against his. It lasted longer than the first time, but when Marco pulled back, Ace felt disappointed it was already over .

"You sure you weren't jealous?" the performer said teasing and Ace realised he had leaned in.

Stubborn as he was, he pouted and looked away. "Who the hell would be jealous of a stupid chicken?"

"What did you call me?" Marco said threateningly.

Before the freckled man knew it, he was pinned against the ground. He let out a yelp, but fortunately, the blond man didn't seem mad. Contrary, in fact, he looked rather amused.

"So, you're saying that you don't care who I sleep with?" When the raven haired man shook his head, still pouting and pinned against the floor, he continued: "In that case, perhaps I should go back to finish what I started."

Ace shot up so fast he almost gave the other a head butt. "Wait, you mean you didn't…"

"The mood was kind of ruined after you hit me with that suitcase."

Feeling a little smug about hitting him, Ace sighed relieved.

Marco chuckled. "So you _do_ care."

"Of course I don't–" Before he could finish his sentence, his lips were covered by hungry ones. This time, Ace started kissing back and it felt amazing. Why hadn't he realised before? Marco set the pace, slow but steady, and after a few minutes licked across Ace's bottom lip. The freckled man wasn't sure what to do, but when motion was repeated, he hesitantly opened his jaw. Marco immediately took that as an invitation and pushed his tongue inside. The raven head's first instinct was to snap his mouth shut, but fortunately for the other he managed to fight that and let it happen. It actually felt very nice and he couldn't suppress a moan.

Marco tilted his head and deepened the kiss. His fingers gently caressed Ace's jaw. When he let go, the raven head let out a needy whine. The blond smiled and stroked his hair. "So are you sure about this?"

For the first time, Ace initiated the kiss and managed to extract a happy sigh from the usually stoic performer. Rather smugly, he grinned up to him. "You really need me to answer that?"

Marco smiled again and shook his head.

They decided that they should find a place to stay for the night – or rather, the rest of the morning, as it was close to three now. The blond had taken the freckled man by the hand and led them to the inn he had taken the woman to, as he already had a room there and the rest of their stuff was there as well, since Ace hadn't taken that with him. They managed to get a little sleep without touching each other too much – which worked better after they decided to lie in separate beds.

* * *

The next morning, Ace felt a little insecure about the whole thing, but when Marco kissed him, he realised he had nothing to worry about. There was still one thing bothering him, though, and he waited until they were well on the road before raising the matter. "Marco, about that woman from last night…"

"What's with her?" the blond asked.

"Well, she was a woman…"

"Yes?"

"I'm not!" It came out more like a whine than he had hoped.

Marco stopped in his tracks. Ace looked over his shoulder confused when the blond suddenly burst out in laughter. He had to put the suitcase he was carrying down and clutched at his stomach.

Confusion made place for annoyance and the freckled man snapped: "What the hell is so funny?"

"You… You say that like I don't know that," the other man hiccupped.

"Well, do you?" Ace was pretty irritated by now. What the hell was so funny that he wanted to point out he had different parts than the woman?

Marco finally managed to catch his breath and calm down, the occasional chuckle still escaping. He placed a hand on the raven head's shoulder, who was still scowling at him, and squeezed it reassuringly. "Of course I know you're guy, Ace. Gender just never influenced who I was attracted to."

Ace nodded, still slightly pouting. The blond chuckled and pressed a kiss on his lips. After the third, he had managed to kiss the pout away and after the fifth peck Ace wrapped his arms around the other man. They deepened the kiss. Marco's hands wandered across the freckled man's back and came to a rest on his ass. The raven head moaned when he felt a squeeze and pushed himself flush against the other man. It was ridiculous how badly he wanted Marco to touch him while less than a day ago he hadn't realised what he was missing out on.

Panting, they let go of each other. Ace bit his swollen lips as he looked at the other man. It wasn't even lunchtime yet and he already didn't feel like travelling any further. What he did want to do, he wasn't sure off, as long as it involved kissing Marco.

The blond seemed to be in a similar state. He trailed his finger along the freckled man naked chest. "You want to call it an early day? The sky is getting gloomy anyway, so we'd better put up the tent before it starts to rain."

Ace nodded fervently. The tent was put up in record time and when Marco crawled inside to put his sleeping mat down, the dark haired man dove in right after him. He landed on top of the other man, something the blond did not seem to mind at all. After exchanging a few heated kisses, the older man panted: "Ace, the other stuff!" He had barely said it, or the sound of thunder sounded and the soft tapping of raindrops could be heard on the canvas.

The freckled man cursed and dove outside again, to save their possessions from getting wet. In the meantime, the performer had made room in the tent. Even in the few seconds he was outside, Ace had become soaked. He handed Marco the bags through the opening and waited until the blond was done shifting around, before he crawled back inside.

"You better take off your clothes before you soak everything," the performer said, his voice sounding deeper than usual.

"I thought me being naked made you uncomfortable," Ace teased.

"Not now I'm allowed to touch you."

The freckled man grinned and started to take off his pants, as he hadn't worn a shirt to begin with. When he was completely naked, he noticed the blond staring at him. "Like what you see?" He wiggled his ass temptingly, as much as his crouching position allowed.

"Very much so."

Not having expected such a blunt answer, Ace actually blushed and muttered: "Yeah, yeah."

"Really." The performer moved over and started to dry the other man off with a towel. He worked gently, like he was afraid to hurt the raven head. He rubbed the dark strands, before starting on his torso. When he was dry enough, the towel was discarded, but the hands never left his body. Ace watched how deft fingers traced his abs and his breath hitched when the blond grazed his nipple.

"Ace…" Marco's voice was soft and low, sending shivers up his spine.

A tongue darted out and licked at his earlobe, shattering the last piece of sanity he possessed. He pinned the blond against the sleeping mat, kissing him like his life depended on it. He didn't know when he had become hard, usually he would have been embarrassed, but now he couldn't care less. And through the blond's loose pants, he could feel he was in a similar state.

The performer sat up, so that Ace slid in his lap and took off his turban, which he still wore all the time. Ace immediately took advantage of the opportunity and let his fingers fun through the blond strands. He never stopped kissing the man, as the other did his best to shrug off the shirt he was wearing. The freckled man's lips traced to the jaw covered in blond stubble, grazing the skin with his teeth. Marco let out a moan and Ace took that as an invitation to continue. He went lower, to the man's neck and shoulder. His hands caressed his abs and when he pinched his nipples, the blond's hips jerked forward.

"Fuck, Ace," he sighed.

The freckled man sat back and looked at him thoughtfully. "You're not naked enough."

"We can change that." The performer pushed him off his lap and in the blink of an eye had discarded his pants. "Better?"

Ace nodded, but when the other tried to kiss him again, he stopped him. Marco looked at him questioningly. Ace's eyes darted over his body. He had never seen a naked man before and certainly not in this state.

A smirk pulled at the blond's lips. "Like what you see?"

He couldn't help but grin. "Very much so." He jumped Marco again. Their erections rubbed together and Ace let his head fall back in pleasure. He wanted to feel more of it, more of Marco. "I've never been so happy it was raining," he managed to bring out panting.

The blond smiled and flipped them over, so that Ace was lying on his back on the thin mattress. "Me neither." He sucked on the dark haired man's lips, drawing all kinds of pleased sounds from him.

Ace was even more glad that it rained now, because he couldn't stop moaning and the bad weather made it less likely that someone would pass by. Marco kissed and nipped at all the right places and touched the freckled man in places he had never thought he wanted to be touched. As great as it all felt though, he soon needed more. "Marco!" he exclaimed as the blond man bit down particularly hard at his collar bone and his hips bucked up. "I want…"

He wasn't even sure how that sentence would end, but the blond seemed to understand him perfectly. Kissing him one more time, he started to rummage through a bag nearby. Ace recognised it as the bag Marco always wore himself and he had only touched once, when he had found the photo. From the content, the performer pulled a bottle with some sort of liquid in it.

"What's that?" the freckled man asked heated.

"Oil." Marco started to kiss his neck.

"What for?"

"'Cause it's gonna hurt without."

Before Ace could ask any more questions, he lips were covered by the blond's again. He forgot about the bottle and gave into the kiss, when he suddenly felt something slick covering his fingers and his hand was guided to Marco's back. When they were pressed against the ring of muscles, the freckled man shot up. "W-what the hell are you doing?"

The performer looked at him sceptically. "I'm not going to do this without preparation," he huffed. When he saw Ace's confused look, his face softened. "I see. Ace, I want to ride you."

The freckled man just stared at him blankly. Slowly, the meaning of his words dawned on him and his cheeks started to heat up. "Y-you mean…?"

Marco smiled and kissed him again. "Would you like that?"

His cock twitched at the thought of it, so he nodded. Marco started guiding his hand again, pressing one of Ace's finger's inside of his body. His eyes screwed shut and Ace watched in awe. He could feel the blond's body tighten around him.

"You can move," the performer said hoarsely.

Ace nodded numbly and did as he was asked. At first Marco's body seemed to work against him, but after having moved in and out a few times, it became easier.

"Another one," the man on top of him panted and he happily complied. "Now spread them." Again, he carried out the order and when his lover asked him to curl them back, Ace got the most beautiful reaction. Marco arched his back, his eyes closed and beads of sweat on his forehead. The freckled man enjoyed watching every response he got and decided he could do this all day.

The blond, however, had other plans. After a few minutes, he pinned Ace against the mattress again. "That's enough." He grabbed the bottle again and let some of the oil drip on the raven haired man's neglected cock.

It felt cold, but strangely nice. Ace didn't really know how to proceed, but luckily, Marco did. He positioned himself over the freckled man's erection and slowly lowered himself. Ace clenched his jaw when he felt the tip of his erection press against the other's entrance. He desperately wanted to snap his hips up, but Marco set the pace. Agonisingly slow, the performer lowered himself further. Ace clenched his teeth and dug his heels into the mattress in order to handle the overwhelming feeling he got.

When he was completely sheathed, Marco sighed. "Shit," he mumbled.

The freckled man gently caressed the man's thighs and felt them shake ever so slightly. "A-are you okay?" he managed.

Marco nodded, his eyes closed. Experimentally, he rolled his hips. A curse escaped the freckled man's lips when the feeling of pleasure made its way through his body. The blond repeated the motion and soon, they both were nothing more than a mess of pleasure. It wasn't long before Ace found a pace that matched his lover's.

Suddenly, Marco all but screamed and the heir looked up worriedly. The blond couldn't bring out anything, just shook his head and continued the rhythm. Ace felt something wet drip onto his stomach and observing the other for a moment, he decided that the man must enjoy what he just did very much, judging by his slack jaw and flushed cheeks. He had never imagined he would see Marco like that, but wanted to enjoy the moment to the fullest. He grabbed the man's hips and pulled them forward. The reaction he received was very much worth it. Marco let out a curse and all but hauled Ace in a sitting position by his hair, kissing him like it would save his life. One hand moved down between them and he started masturbating. Ace wrapped his hand over the blond's, helping him move as they both were close. Suddenly, the older man buried his face in the crook of Ace's neck, biting down as his body tensed up. The freckled man could feel the other body tighten around him, pulling him over the edge along with the blond.

It took him a moment to resister what had happened, as he lay on his back on the thin mattress, Marco collapsed on top of him and the rain still tapping against the canvas of the tent. Lazily, he brought his hand up to caress the sweaty blond hair that was tickling his nose.

Finally, the performer moved and lay down next to Ace, pulling him close. He nuzzled against the freckled cheeks. "That was nice."

A grin spread across his face. "It sure was."

* * *

Over the next two months, Ace realised he was really happy. Things were great between him and Marco, and their teamwork in their shows had improved considerately.

Currently, Ace was performing a new trick they had come up with in which it appeared like fire shot out of his hands, hence calling it the 'Fire Fist'. They had decided they each needed their trademark trick and as Marco had 'The Phoenix', this was Ace's. And their shows weren't the only place they got creative. A smirk appeared on the freckled man's face when he thought back about earlier that day and what Marco had done to him. Yes, things were very well between them.

The raven head bowed as the audience applauded. It was time for their grand finale and Marco stepped forward. At some point, he had stopped wearing the turban. Ace wasn't sure why, but he didn't really care either. Maybe it had been a fashion statement or something and Marco was done with it now.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for our final trick," Ace announced with loud voice. He always did the announcement and comments, as Marco wasn't very vocal. Well, unless… He shook his head. Now was not the time to go there.

Marco bowed as he handed the freckled man the blanket. Ace covered his partner with it. Somewhere in the audience he thought he heard someone ask, "Marco?", but there were more people called Marco than only his, so he shrugged it off. He held up the torch and lit the blanket as usual with this trick and smirked at the gasps he heard from the audience.

The blond let himself fall on his knees, still covered with the blanket, but didn't let out any bloodcurdling scream like usual, nor did he squirm to add to the illusion he was actually consumed by the fire. Maybe he wasn't in the mood. The audience was impressed anyway, especially a lady in the front row, who had covered her make-up covered face with her hand. The man next to her with a large pompadour like hairstyle looked equally upset. It was a good trick, after all.

When the flames had died away, it became dark and Ace lit another torch. "Ladies and gentlemen," he started, pulling the blanket away to show that Marco wasn't there anymore. "From his ashes he will arise. I give you: the Phoenix!" With a wide motion, he gestured in the direction where Marco should appear again with his blue flaming wings and bird mask.

Nothing happened.

"The Phoenix," he repeated, in case Marco hadn't heard him, but still no sign of his partner. The audience became restless and started mumble. Ace on the other hand was panicking. Had the trick gone wrong and was Marco hurt? He needed to get the spectators to leave in order to find out. "And he has disappeared!" he exclaimed and bowed.

A hesitant applause arose as he bowed again and collected the money. Slowly, people slunk away, muttering about the anti-climactic ending. Ace couldn't care less. He just wanted to know if Marco was okay and feverishly he started to collect their stuff, which he didn't want to leave unattended.

"Excuse me."

He looked up at hearing the voice and recognised the two people standing next to him as the man and woman who had looked so shocked when he set Marco on fire. "Yes?" he asked, not stopping with the clean-up.

"Where's your partner?"

"I'm sorry, how we do out tricks is professionally secrecy," he answered in a dismissive voice. It wasn't the first time they were asked to explain illusions and from the beginning Marco had told him to ignore those. Usually his comment was enough, but he still felt the presence of the two and annoyed he looked up.

"Please," the woman pleaded in a deeper voice than he had expected. Now that he had a closer look, she might be a cross dressing man. Not that he cared about that. "The man that was with you… Is his name Marco?"

His suspicion rose and he tensed. "Who wants to know?"

"We're his brothers," the cross dresser continued. "Please, we just want to talk to him."

Ace looked warily from one to the other. The man with the pompadour was looking away like he didn't agree with what the other said. He hadn't spoken the whole time.

The cross dresser drew the freckled man's attention by touching his arm. "Can you tell us where he is?"

Ace hesitated. Marco cared about his family very much, but didn't the fact that he wasn't here right now mean that he didn't want to talk to them? On the other hand, he might be hurt. Eventually, Ace sighed and said: "I honestly don't know where he is. The trick wasn't supposed to go like this."

"If you find him, please tell him that we stay at the _White Whale_ inn," the cross dresser continued. "We'll wait there. Come on, Thatch."

The man with the pompadour shot Ace a look like he just insulted his mother and then followed the other. Ace stayed behind a little baffled. That was not exactly like he had imagined Marco's family. On the other hand, the blond had told him that all the siblings were adopted, so obviously they didn't look like the performer.

Shaking off these thoughts, Ace packed the last things and started to look for his lover. He called out his name, but got no response, increasing his suspicion that the man was indeed hiding from his brothers. Maybe the person calling out Marco's name had been one of them and the blond had heard that! It would be a more plausible explanation than that the performer was hurt. The Phoenix trick might not be the easiest, but for Marco, it was just routine. He shouldn't get hurt.

After hours of looking, Ace finally found his lover on a rooftop. The man sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, his face hidden.

Cautiously, Ace approached him and place a hand on his arm. "Marco…" When he didn't get a response, he continued: "You saw them, didn't you?"

Finally, the blond looked up. "I can't face them." His voice broke. "Not after I abandoned them when they needed me most."

"They want to talk to you, Marco. They're waiting for you at the _White Whale_."

But Marco shook his head. "I can't face them," he repeated.

Ace sighed and sat down next to his lover, his arm wrapped around his shoulder. "I've known you for a while now, Marco, and I've never seen you as happy as when you talk about your family."

The blond buried his face in the freckled man's neck. "You make me happy."

"That doesn't mean you don't want your family back." Ace lifted Marco's chin. "Just go there. See what they have to say. We can always leave, but you'll regret it if you don't check it out."

The blond was silent for a moment and then sighed. "Alright. You know me too well, I guess." He kissed him.

They made their way to the appointed inn. It was fairly easy to recognise the two brothers in the crowd, one having a pompadour and one being dressed like a geisha. As they approached the table, Ace heard Thatch, who was sitting with his back towards them, say: "I'm telling you, he's not going to show up. Why would he abandon us and suddenly want to talk?"

"Maybe because he regrets what he did?" Marco said.

Thatch looked around and the cross dresser squealed and threw his arms around the blond's neck. At first, Marco seemed a bit lost, but soon he switched to big brother modus and hugged his brother back. "I missed you too, Izo," he said softly.

Moved, Ace looked at the reunion, when suddenly a chair fell over with a loud bang. Thatch had stood up, glaring daggers at the scene. The cross dresser, Izo, let go of the blond and a bit nervous, Ace looked from one to the other. Thatch seemed ready to punch Marco in the face. The freckled man took a step closer to his lover, just in case.

Instead, the man with the pompadour crossed his arms before his chest. "Well then, let's hear your excuse for leaving us after Pops was killed."

Marco sighed. "I don't have one, not a good one, at least. I was a useless drunk, I just didn't want to be a burden anymore, because I knew I could never be like Pops."

"We could take care of ourselves! No one expected you to take Pops' place!" Thatch was shaking with rage. "We just needed our brother!"

"Thatch," Izo said sharply, "we all dealt with Pops' death in different ways. Marco needed time alone to sober up."

"And that took two years?!"

"No." Marco sighed. "But by the time I did, I didn't dare to come back."

Izo turned towards the blond. "The money that was sent to us… That was from you, wasn't it? Money you made with your shows?"

Marco nodded hesitantly.

Ace smiled. "See? I told you you were doing good?"

Brusquely, Thatch turned to him. "I'm sorry, who are you again?!"

"Me?" The freckled man blinked in surprise. "I'm Ace, his partner. And lover," he added chuckling.

"So you have time to screw some random guy, but not for your own family?" the brown haired man snorted.

"That's it!" Izo grabbed Thatch's ear and led him back to his chair. "Marco is trying to make amends. Now, sit!"

Much to Ace's surprise, the man with the pompadour did as he was told without complaining.

Izo crossed his arms before his chest and tapped his foot on the floor impatiently. "Marco, you too." The blond also did as he was told, sitting across his brother. "Now," the cross dresser continued, "you are gonna talk until you are best friends again. Ace, come with me."

A bit surprised that everyone complied with Izo, the freckled man placed the bags he was carrying next to Marco and he couldn't help but give him a peck on the shaven part of his head. "I'm right there if you need me," he whispered, pointing at the bar where the cross dresser was already waiting. Marco touched his hand for a moment, before the heir left.

While the two brothers were talking, Izo gave Ace a thorough interrogation. He asked how old he was, where he was from, how he met Marco and how they got together. Ace answered all his questions honestly and the cross dresser seemed surprised when he told him he was the heir of a duke. "You don't look the part," he commented.

In turn, Ace asked about Marco's childhood and his family. He decided he liked Izo a lot.

While they were talking, the freckled man hadn't noticed that some guys seemed to be very interested in Izo. They only came to his attention when he and the cross dresser were suddenly surrounded. "Hey, gorgeous, what are you doing with that shrimp," one of them commented, even though Ace was broader than he was.

Izo was not impressed in the least. "Beat it, muscle brain, I'm busy."

"Come on," another guy slurred. "You're too beautiful to waste your time talking." He placed a hand on the cross dresser's ass.

"How _dare_ you?!" Izo attempted to slap him, but his hand was caught in time.

"Get your paws off!" Ace yelled and hit the man in the face. His buddies came immediately into action, however, and he was pinned down. One guy placed his knee on his throat and he almost choked. He gasped for air, already seeing black spots before his eyes. Suddenly, the pressure disappeared and the man who had tried to choke him was knocked out. Ace kicked his other attacker away and scrambled to his feet, ready to punch someone in the face. He regretted putting his special gloves with which he did the 'Fire Fist' in a bag, they would have come in handy. Instead, he opted for breaking one of the attackers' nose.

When he looked up, he saw Izo sitting on the bar, looking amused, while the guy who had touched him was lying on the floor. Marco had placed a sandaled foot on his chest, while next to him Thatch pressed a sword to the attacker's throat.

The third assailant lay unconscious on the floor a few feet away.

"Nicely done," Izo commented, taking Thatch's extended hand and allowing him to help him off the bar, while the man with the pompadour still pressed his sword against the frightened attacker's throat. "You beat guys up together as well as always."

Thatch looked at the blond and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… Maybe I've been a little unreasonable. It's not like you left us with nothing. But at least saying you were gonna leave would have made a huge difference…"

"I know, I'm sorry." They hugged each other.

"So, will you come home?" Izo asked hopefully. "Everyone misses you."

Marco looked at Thatch, who nodded encouragingly, and then to Ace, who smiled. "I can't," he sighed eventually. When Izo and the brown haired man started to protest, he silenced them by raising his hand. "I'm sorry, but I promised Ace I would travel the world with him."

"What? No, don't do this because of me," the freckled man pleaded. "You should go home with your family. That's where you belong."

Marco looked hesitantly to his brothers, who nodded fervently.

"I'll be fine," Ace continued. "I don't want to be in the way of your happiness."

Marco grabbed his hands. "I told you, you make me happy." The heir opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by a kiss. "Come with us," Marco said when he let go of him.

"Really?"

Thatch wrapped an arm around him. "A friend of Marco's is a friend of ours. You'll fit right in. Besides," he added with a grin, "I don't want to be the one who has to comfort him when he cries his eyes out because he misses you so much."

Marco scowled at his brother, but then looked at Ace again. "Please?"

A grin spread across his freckled face. "Sure."


End file.
